


Put Your Arms Around Me and Don't Ever Let Go

by luckie_dee



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee/pseuds/luckie_dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill. Mimsy prompted: <i>Three word prompt! Cereal, face, wish.</i> Title from "Easy Come Easy Go" by the Great Lake Swimmers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put Your Arms Around Me and Don't Ever Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr August 2012. Unbetaed, no spoilers.

Blaine never sleeps well when he’s stressed.  
  
He’s officially lived in New York City for just under five and a half days, and it’s wonderful, but that doesn’t mean that his new life isn’t a collection of things that he’s never done before, and that’s inherently stressful. He’s never lived anywhere but his parents’ house, never shared a city with millions of people, never paid a utility bill. His first college classes are next week and his job at the cafe three blocks over starts the day after tomorrow — he’s never waited tables before either.  
  
For all of those reasons and more, he’s standing in the kitchen at 2:37 in the morning, pulling the box of Apple Jacks out of the cupboard by the dim light from the hallway. He moves as quietly as he can, pouring the cereal and then the milk into a bowl, which he takes with a spoon into the miniscule living room. He eats standing in front of the window, which doesn’t offer much of a view, just the dark brick building across the street, a glimpse around the corner, and the vaguest outline of his own reflection. He can see a patch of sky, but no stars.  
  
He isn’t alone for long. His cereal isn’t even halfway gone when he hears soft, shuffling footsteps behind him.  
  
Blaine’s never shared an apartment with the man he loves before.  
  
Kurt sleeps like the dead, and he immediately sags against Blaine’s back and burrows his cheek into the hollow of Blaine’s neck. Blaine raises his arms a little so that Kurt can snug his own in around Blaine’s waist.  
  
“Is this why all the cereal keeps disappearing so fast?” he mumbles.  
  
“Mm-hmm,” Blaine hums back. “Sorry.”  
  
Kurt yawns and squeezes in a little closer. Blaine can just barely make out the reflection of his face in the glass, eyes closed, peaceful. “What are you doing out here?”  
  
“Remember when we watched the Perseids last summer?” Blaine asks. It had been just before Kurt left for New York, just the two of them on a blanket at the edge of a farm field, pinning a hope to every streak of light in the sky.  
  
He feels Kurt nod a little against his neck. “You’re making wishes?”  
  
“Can’t see any stars to wish on,” Blaine comments, looking again at the small black chunk of sky.  
  
“Maybe use headlights,” Kurt says, his voice low and drowsy, and Blaine’s not entirely sure that he isn’t asleep standing up.  
  
He can lean forward and see cars driving by on the street, though, even at this hour. There aren’t as many as there are during the day, and he finds himself doing it, whimsically, maybe foolishly.  
  
A taxicab.  _I hope that you get every part and every job that you ever want.  
  
_ An ancient sedan.  _I want this year to be good for both of us.  
  
_ A huge, ostentatious SUV.  _I hope we make this work. Forever.  
  
_ Because even though this is it, it’s finally here, being adults, living on their own, Blaine suddenly feels smaller and younger and more anxious than he has in years. He crunches thoughtfully on another mouthful of cereal. It’s not that he thinks they can’t do it, but the sudden reality of it overwhelms him sometimes, all the unknowns. It’s been five days. He still feels like he’s playing house — or playing tiny apartment, as the case may be.  
  
Kurt shifts against him, solid and warm against his back, and then tilts his head to place a single sleepy kiss at the place where Blaine’s neck stops and his shoulder begins, right at the edge of the stretched-out neck of this t-shirt. “Or you could just come back to bed.” His arms tighten once more around Blaine’s waist, and maybe this is it. Maybe for now, all he has to worry about is the small space between their own walls and letting Kurt anchor him in the cocoon of their bed.  
  
“Okay,” he says. He takes one last peek out the window, repeats  _forever_  as a tiny dark sports car speeds by. Everything else can wait until morning.


End file.
